


Round Five

by vienn_peridot



Series: Citrus Basket [9]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Blindfolds, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Vaginal Fingering, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 09:53:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4175448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vienn_peridot/pseuds/vienn_peridot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Percy going down on Drift until he passes out.</p><p>Inspired by <a>Schandbringer's comic</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Round Five

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [I Don't Know](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/122229) by Schandbringer. 



> My reaction to having a shit day is to write disgusting porn, apparently.

Drift couldn’t believe he’d finally decided to do this.

Right now he couldn’t understand why he hadn’t done it sooner.

He was blindfolded, lying face-up on Perceptor berth with his hands cuffed above his helm and some sturdy cable cunningly tied around his waist and hip joints so he couldn’t accidentally crush Perceptor’s helm with his thighs as the scientist lapped at Drift’s valve like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

 _For all I know he really_ does _like the taste._

Even though New Crystal City had replaced Drift’s valve he’d never touched it, just continued as normal and tried to pretend the infernal thing didn’t exist. This became difficult to do when Kup up and decided that Drift would be fighting with his team, working most closely with Perceptor.

Then it got even _more_ difficult to ignore when the gorgeous, lanky red-plated scientist bearing the most fascinating scope Drift had ever seen turned out to be more than quietly handsome. Perceptor was competent, deadly and blindingly intelligent. The scientist-turned-sniper made Drift want things he’d never wanted before and right now he wanted Perceptor to keep nibbling his nub until they both collapsed from lack of recharge.

After many long discussion to establishing the rules of this game Perceptor had prepared Drift as carefully as he would clean and prep his sniper rifle or set up an experiment with volatile substances. Then he’d licked and kissed his way over every inch of Drift’s frame, purring a litany of praise in that dead sexy voice of his that sounded even better with Drift’s optics rendered useless by a thick swathe of black cloth.

Between the skilful touches that steadily stoked Drift’s arousal and the sinful sound of Perceptor’s voice right next to his audial flare his interface array had been open long before Perceptor got anywhere near touching his valve. Unfortunately for Drift the way the restraining cables crossed over the front of his pelvic armour created an obstruction _right_ over his spike. The signals this sent to his processor from the spike housing triggered an autonomic process that automatically rerouted all data for his pelvic interface array to his valve.

It made Drift want to scream with aggravation at first.

The little trickles of lubrication his valve was producing thanks to Perceptor’s teasing were annoying and decidedly _not_ nice, but right now everything else was feeling so good Drift didn’t want to stop just because his valve was lubricating.

_Anyway, that’s the point of all this, isn’t it?_

After what felt like an eternity of teasing Drift wanted to scream with frustration as he felt his unused valve begin to lubricate in earnest, dripping down the curve of his aft and Percy _still_ hadn’t let him overload. He could feel the external sensory nub incorporated into the new valve begin to throb and swell, demanding attention it wasn’t getting. As Percy had explained, it was the only part of his frame that existed for one purpose: pleasure.

Drift’s pleasure.

Pleasure that Perceptor seemed hell-bent on killing him with as the scientist started kissing his way down Drift’s audial, his neck, licking along the transformation seams of chest and abdomen as he moved closer to the agonising inferno of _need_ he’d conjured where none had ever existed before.

Finally, _finally_ Drift screamed in overload as Percptor brushed the lightest possible kiss to his almost painfully sensitive nub.

“Ok, Drift?” Perceptor asked when Drift could think again.

“More than ok, Perce’.” Drift rasped through a damaged vocaliser.

“Would you like me to continue?” The scientist was as considerate as ever.

Drift couldn’t find the words to communicate just _how much_ he wanted to continue, nor could he grab Perceptor’s head and get those lips back on his nub. Desperately he twitched his hips towards the other mech and whined when that didn’t get any response.

“Please. _Please_ Percy. Keep going.”

“If you want me to stop, say the word and I will.” Perceptor promised solemnly, bowing his helm to Drift’s bared and leaking valve.

The first proper lick was a barely-there whisper of touch, gently tracing around the nub which Drift could swear felt ten times bigger than normal.

Having his optics covered and movement restrained Drift’s processor compensated by focusing on his sensornet, making every touch felt that much more intense. His world narrowed to Perceptor and the things he was doing, things Drift hadn’t even known it was _possible_ to do to a mechanism. All that mattered was Perceptor’s hands on his thighs, Perceptor’s glossa on his valve and Perceptor’s designation howled to the ceiling as Drift thrashed through a long, messy overload the scientist extended by holding Drift in place, wrapping his lips around Drift’s nub and _sucking_ on the sensor-packed nodule. Apparently Perceptor didn’t care about the lubricant positively flooding from Drift’s valve and gushing all over his faceplates.

All Drift cared about was making sure that Perceptor _didn’t stop_.

This time Drift was speaking before the last waves of overload fully cleared his system, begging the other mech to continue.

Perceptor’s glossa left the oversensitive nub, playing over the delicate ruffled protoform folds of Drift’s external array. It gave Drift a few uneasy twitches but the aftermath of two fragging _fantastic_ overloads running through his systems made it much easier to push the uncomfortable feelings aside relax into the moment.

_This is Percy, this is ok._

He really, really wanted to look at Perceptor, to see what it looked like to have the scientist’s helm bobbing between his thighs as he swiped warm tingles across Drift’s array with the flat of his glossa. Drift wanted to see how his biolights reflected off the mess that would _surely_ be covering Percy’s faceplates right now. It would be too much though, seeing _it_. Drift’s imagination filled in nicely, focusing on the details of how his partner would look with little pink smears on his reticule and blithely skimming over anything that would kill his arousal.

The third overload of their session rolled up slowly, coaxed along by Perceptor’s slow, patient licks and occasional lipplate-only nibbles at Drift’s nub. By now it felt like his entire array was throbbing in time with his Spark, Perceptor’s touch was too much and not enough, not moving to where Drift needed it most. Then a cheeky gust of cool air blown over his slicked and heated protoform sent the bliss that had built in Drift’s valve rolling out through to engulf his entire frame in waves of liquid light.

When it passed Drift pressed his valve into Perceptor’s face with a hoarse ‘please’ and the scientist obliged, nuzzling Drift’s array and finally sliding his glossa into the opening of Drift’s valve.

By now Drift was so aroused he barely felt the intrusion, far more interested in the way Percy’s muffled moans were vibrating up through his protoform, right to his Spark. Perceptor withdrew and lavished attention on Drift’s nub again and the speedster lost all control of his vocaliser, drowning out the sound of their vents and the wet noises coming from between his thighs. Drift’s valve ached, he wanted that generous glossa back inside him and he wanted it NOW.

Perceptor must have gleaned something along those lines from Drift’s helpless moans because the next thing Drift knew that glorious, wonderful, _divine_ glossa was back at his entrance, dipping in gently and pausing briefly. Then Perceptor pressed his mouth to Drifts valve array, sealing his lipplates to swollen protoform folds that pulsed with energon and proceeding to frag Drift gently with leisurely licks and thrusts of his glossa.

Every time Drift’s lubricant production threatened to become more of a hindrance than a help Perceptor would pause his activities to swallow the excess with a dirty little hum of enjoyment. Drift couldn’t believe it the first time despite the hum stimulating his protoform. The pressure of Percy’s lippates and glossa distracted him before he could do more than say Percy’s name, the rest of his question turning into desperate, broken whimpers of hunger. Gentle probes of Perceptor’s glossa against his first internal sensor ring had Drift moaning and twitching, pressing down as much as his restrains would allow as his valve cycled, trying to grip the glossa that _wasn’t quite long enough_ and pull it deeper.

Then the scientist tilted his helm so his olfactory housing pressed to Drifts nub, nuzzling the swollen nodule while he thrust his glossa as deeply as he could into Drift’s valve.

Drift wailed as electric glory unlike anything he’d ever known poured through his frame. It reached an impossible peak and he was screaming Percy’s name, shaking uncontrollably with Perceptor humming into his valve, holding him steady and continuing to nuzzle his node while flicking his glossa across Drift’s internal sensors. Lubricant flowed in rivers down Drift’s aft and he didn’t care, riding the wave of his overload as long as he physically could.

That glorious glossa stayed within Drift’s valve until the very last shivers of overload left his frame. Perceptor was panting through his oral cavity, vents blasting gusts of scorching air Drift’s thighs. Drift moaned happily, feeling soaked and relaxed and sated but still somehow _unfinished_. His processor was muzzy, thoughts moving sluggishly in the state of contented bliss he’d been reduced to.

 _We agreed to stop here and go further next time. But… But I want it_ now _._

Somehow he managed to connect action to desire and wrestled his vocaliser online.

“P-Percy? Would you… um” Drift could feel his finials heating slightly with nervousness, a goofy smile spreading across his faceplates as he continued. “… You know… Just _one_ more?”

He could feel Perceptor’s vents stall, feel the mech go still between his legs and wondered what expression was on the scientists face.

“Mmh, of course.” Perceptor sounded pleased and very, very happy. He made a proud, encouraging sound and a licked Drift’s sensory nub, one elegant finger gently sliding through the very outermost folds of Drift’s valve.

Relaxing in his bonds, Drift shivered with something like impatience as he wondered what Perceptor would do with that finger. By now he could feel every single individual sensor in his entire valve array, his entire frame tense and focused on what Perceptor was doing. Something about the texture of that particular digit seemed familiar when it stroked his nub lightly.

 _Is… is that his_ trigger finger? _Oh Primus, it is!_

Intentionally giving him time to adjust to the new sensation, Perceptor made sure his finger was thoroughly saturated in Drift’s lubricant before sliding it gently into the desperately empty speedster. Drift moaned as his callipers _finally_ had something to close against, locking around Perceptor’s finger with surprising strength when it wiggled gently against previously unstimulated sensors within his valve passage.

The overload produced by having his inner walls gently stimulated while the scientist sucked his node sent Drift screaming happily into unconsciousness, Perceptor’s fond chuckle echoing in his audials.


End file.
